What the Heart Wants (What the Heart Wants, #1)(32)

His brain rocketed into outer space, and he took her mouth again, releasing the back hooks of her bra at the same time. Her sweet breasts tumbled free, and his finger circled one dusky pink tip before he tested it with his tongue.

She moaned and her eyelids closed. When he mouthed her other nipple, she uttered a short, sharp cry.

“That’s it, baby,” he breathed in her ear. “I want to know what you like.”

She stroked his arms. “You, Jase. I like you.”

His heart thumped in his chest so hard it hurt. He nipped at her neck and lowered his mouth to her breasts again, sucking first one crest, then the other, until they glowed like twin rubies.

She ran her hand along his jaw. He’d shaved before he came over, but probably had fresh stubble by now. The beard didn’t seem to faze her, though. In fact, from the way she was writhing against him, it seemed to turn her on.

Remember that, Jason.

He trailed his hand down her throat to the juncture of her breasts, then farther down, to the front closure of her slacks. The buttons, hook, and zipper opened easily, and he slid the slacks off her to the side of the bed, then pulled down her panties. She arched her breasts and gave him a come-hither smile.

Oh God, she was an erotic fantasy, her dark hair fanned behind her head, her blouse spread beneath her shoulders, her face flushed with passion, her mouth swollen with desire—desire for him.

“You’re beautiful.” His voice was so thick she probably couldn’t understand a word he was saying, but she was more than beautiful. She was glorious, his own goddess of delight. Her breasts, tipped by dusky pink rosebuds, were full and firm; her belly was flat, her hips rounded, her legs long and curvy, and her pale skin incandescent in the evening glow.

He tore off his shirt and ran a hand along the curve of her hip, tantalizing himself with the feel of her, then followed with a trail of wet kisses down to the spread of dark curls at the juncture of her thighs.

Lifting himself just enough to unfasten his belt, he used one well-practiced motion to push his slacks and briefs off to the bottom of the bed, jackknifing his butt backward so she wouldn’t get the full visual of his erection yet.

You could hang a flag on that guy.

Laurel felt a thrill pass through her as Jase shucked his pants. They were both naked now—skin to skin, body to body. This was a time for truth between them. There were no subterfuges, no places to hide. He was man, she was woman, and tonight they would merge their bodies and become one.

She reached a hand up to caress his stubbled jaw again, the slight irritation of her palm sending a ripple of heat racing through her veins. All in all, she was reacting with an ardor that would have astounded her ex-husband, an ardor she’d given up on ever experiencing.

Sex with Dave hadn’t been the rhapsody she expected after her experience with Jase, and certainly nothing like the love scenes in her favorite novels. In fact, it had been surprisingly dull, starting with a painful wedding night in which she’d bled through to the mattress. Dave had strutted around the hotel like a spread-tailed peacock afterward, but she’d been so embarrassed, she’d hidden out in their room for the rest of the week.

Apparently her well-guarded virginity was all she had to offer Dave, because after they got home, he complained about her lack of response. “It’s like you’re not even there,” he’d said. “I could get the same satisfaction from one of those inflatable dolls.”

Determined to make a go of her marriage, she’d supplemented her white cotton underwear with sexy little nothings from the specialty boutique Saundra Schlossnagel’s mother had added to Ooh La La, then borrowed a couple of X-rated videos from Amy Fassbinder, but nothing seemed to work. What had Dave wanted that she couldn’t give him?

Jase didn’t seem to find her lacking. In fact, he was as hungry for her as she was for him. She moved her hands down to Jase’s shoulders as his shaft nudged her leg.

Slowly, inexorably, he bent her back on the four-poster till they were lying crossways to the headboard, his leg between her thighs, his shoulders pinning her beneath him.

She raised up to claim his mouth, and he gave her a quick kiss as he shifted himself so he was totally over her. A fountain of flame erupted behind her breasts and flowed to the female core of her being.

This was it. She guided his manhood into position. This is where he belonged.

He smoothed her hair and bent down to kiss her once more. Then, reaching down to slick her with saliva, he touched her in just the right spot.

She threw back her head and gasped as a bolt of lightning shot through her and Jase thrust home. Then, encircling his body with her legs, she drew him as close as she could, trying to suck his whole body inside herself.

His dark eyes glittered as he rose above her and began his rhythm.

Now it would be fast.

She met his every stroke, clutching at him with her inner muscles.

She was panting now, little intakes of air accompanied by wispy moans. The window air conditioner was rumbling at top speed, but she was so hot that she felt as if she was going to burst into flames. The bed might break beneath them, but there was no way she could stop. Everything feminine in her was hell-bent on speeding her to the ultimate conclusion.

Suddenly she was soaring beyond the room, beyond the earth, beyond the moon. They were as one being now—she was him and he was her. The waves of release seemed to roll on forever.

Afterward, she lay in his arms, her eyes shut, her fingers trailing down his thigh, her voice a seductive whisper.